


Oh, Billy!

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Dating, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Missionary Position
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29965200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: Bill had found her beautiful from the start, the lovely receptionist from the top floor, but the thought had been little different from admiring the beauty of a sunset, of a painted masterpiece in a museum. Delectable, yes, but nothing he could go home with and with no temptation to stray from his marriage vows, nothing he had ever imagined he would act upon. His wife, his ex-wife had evidently had a whole different set of values and when she had made her merry way to Clivesdale with the love of her youth, Bill had found himself pretty lonely – and Sylvia ever prettier.Bill and Sylvia start dating and opening up to one another. Cutesy third date sort of fic.
Relationships: Sylvia/Bill Woodward
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Oh, Billy!

**Author's Note:**

> Look I love Sylvia with all my heart she deserves the best.

Bill Woodward asked Sylvia out on a sudden whim, worn out of a lifetime of prudence.

The interest itself had of course not come out of nowhere, nor was it particularly new. He had found her beautiful from the start, the lovely receptionist from the top floor, but the thought had been little different from admiring the beauty of a sunset, of a painted masterpiece in a museum. Delectable, yes, but nothing he could go home with and with no temptation to stray from his marriage vows, nothing he had ever imagined he would act upon. His wife, his _ex_ -wife had evidently had a whole different set of values and when she had made her merry way to Clivesdale with the love of her youth, Bill had found himself pretty lonely – and Sylvia ever prettier.

Still, it was easier to wallow in solitude than to drag oneself out of it and he might not had taken the plunge if it hadn't been for his damned ex wife again. One too many times, she had flaunted just how well adjusted she was in her new town with her new lover, no matter how ardently Bill had hoped that the affair would falter away once brought to the light. Somehow, it would have stung less if she had left him for a nobody who would have gotten bored of her the moment she was no longer spoken for.

"Oh, I do wish you'd find the person for you, Bill. You deserve it."

All those years ago, he had thought that he had found the one, and yet after another painful night of driving back from work to an empty home, he had braced himself to do the inevitable. It had taken but one glance at Sylvia the next morning to know that he could not let his luck pass him by. He deserved it.

"Are you free tonight?" He asked.

Sylvia looked up from her papers, startled, and Bill almost lost all countenance right then and there but the look of pure adoration on his ex's face when she was staring at Allan was stuck in his brain and he knew he had to push through one way or another. He could not simmer forever, or at least he did not want to.

"Let's go on a date," he said. More sheepishly, he added, "My treat?"

Slowly, Sylvia broke into the prettiest of smiles. Her long nails tapped against the stack of papers on her desk, ornate colorful rings on every finger.

"Oh, Bill Woodward," she told him. "It's _my_ treat."

The first date was the classic dinner at the restaurant — he took her somewhere his ex had never wanted to go for the sake of turning a brand new page on her. Sylvia told him all that mattered about herself and Bill, entranced, only noticed the time when they had run out of it and the waitress politely let them know they were hoping to close soon. The second date, an afternoon at the museum followed by a wine tasting and she charmed him even more than the first. He had always known that she was pretty and certainly their small talk had never been lacking, but their deeper conversations left him more seduced than he had ever imagined he would be. Suddenly, his ex was out of his thoughts for hours at a time and there was only Sylvia. At work, Charlotte noticed his good mood and Bill realized just how content he had been all week.

"I was thinking," Sylvia told him as they spent their lunch break together on a park bench close to CCRP. They had done this all week and Bill had liked it every bit as much as the more formal dates. "That we could watch a movie together at my place tomorrow. If you're free."

Bill smiled down at his sandwich. He had never been to Sylvia's before. Her knee brushed against his just gently enough to play the pretense of an accidental touch, though she was not a subtle woman and didn't pretend to be.

"You can spend the night, maybe."

He wolfed down the rest of his lunch in one painful huge bite and stood to his feet. Offering his arm to her, they walked back to the office.

"I'll pack an overnight bag, then," he said and Sylvia raised herself on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek.

"And I'll make the bed nice and cozy for you, hon," she replied and Bill felt his cheeks burn up in giddiness and anticipation.

All day he thought of her, and certainly all night home alone in a bed empty of any company. The next day, he packed a change of clothes, a toothbrush and some toiletries in a duffel bag and felt almost naughty just from it, so much so he wondered if Ted would bully him for it. He had a knack to find Bill's weaknesses, as Bill had a knack for exposing them despite himself. Nothing of the sort happened, of course, and in the evening Sylvia took him home. He felt as nervous as a college kid again, even more clumsy than his daughter. Perhaps anxiety was hereditary.

"Make yourself comfortable," she told him as she greeted a pride of cats come to observe the strange newcomer. "Shoes off, don't feed the cats."

"I wasn't gonna feed the cats," he frowned as he unlaced his shoes.

Sylvia gave him a smile in corner. One of the cats was purring in her arms, a chubby ginger tomcat.

"Then you already know the rule," she said simply.

Sylvia's home was a picture of all that made her. Every nook and cranny was cluttered with crafts and ornaments, for her mind was a constant buzz of thoughts she had to let out one way or another. She admitted to hoarding a tad too much than she should, even the six cats, but as she had been working on patching that tendency for the better, Bill had found nothing to judge there. She showed off her tarot deck collection, a very prized array of them on shelves ostensibly often used and taken care of. Her bookshelf equally was messy with frequent use and he admired her for how cultured she was, certainly well read. Finally, they picked a musical movie from her collection of DVDs and when they sat on her couch, the back of it clad with an afghan she had crocheted all herself, Bill had no time to push his luck on his own. Sylvia did all the work for him snuggling into his side comfortably, a hand on his chest. He breathed out with contentment and let himself dive into the first notes of the musical.

Her home was only such a direct image of herself because she had had the leisure to make it so, she had explained. He had already known about the husband she had lost several years ago, as all of CCRP had paid their respects and condolences to her then. After his passing, she had resolved to treat herself with the utmost respect, starting with her surroundings. She had moved to a smaller place filled to the brim with everything that made her happy. Tonight, Bill was invited.

The movie ended, though the spell did not and Bill felt ever so relaxed with Sylvia nestled against him, her head on his chest by now, his hand in her hair. The curls were softer than he had dared to imagine, a whisper at his fingertips. For a moment, they sat in silence watching the menu of the DVD replaying itself once or twice. Sylvia sat up straight again to look at him. She looked into his eyes, at his face, staring as her fingers slowly traced the shape of his jaw, his temple.

"I'm really happy you came, Billy."

The touch was electrifying and he was certain that his heart must have been pounding audibly from inside his chest, that she must be feeling it under the other palm pressed at his torso.

" _Billy_ ," he repeated with awe. He had not been called this since his youth. "Sylvia, I'm... I'm really happy too."

They looked at each other and she gave him a quick peck on the lips before nestling back against him, taking his hand in hers. Not their first kiss, thank god — not at all, if he could allow himself the brag in his own head — but still a taste of something new he was not yet used to. He enjoyed that more than he let on.

"After my Arnie went up to heaven, I thought... I thought I had to be alone for good. To be myself. I thought that was all I could stand, but now, I think I like the company."

He kissed the top of her hair and Sylvia smiled against his chest. She played with his fingers.

"I'm not used to dating anymore," he admitted. "Haven't done it since college or so. I feel rusty."

She sighed and entwined their fingers together.

"You're not getting a fresh prim college girl this time."

Bill squeezed their palms together to reassure her. All of forty-eight, a life behind her, Sylvia was everything he wanted now. They still had a life ahead, too.

"And I don't want one," he said, very sure of himself. Alice would be in college soon. He was too old for the likes of that. "I'm forty-five years old, that's all in the past now. I'm, erm, holding onto the future. Whatever it brings."

Sylvia sat up abruptly.

"Well, I'll give you a reading."

She pried his hand open to look at it with great curiosity and interest and Bill loved the softness of her skin, those small tender hands now rapidly tracing every line of his palm. She was muttering half to herself and half to him about the size and shape of every crease and line, their leaning, how strong his grip.

"This one," she said and her finger grazed lightly against the bigger crease in his palm, "Tells me you're very healthy and capable of much. More than you think."

"Am I, huh?"

He felt ridiculously flattered by her little game, though he had no doubt she must be believing at least some of what she was saying. With every new line she described to him, she found new ways to sing his praise and he was feeling so warm and cozy with it. It wasn't often in the past few years his ex-wife had sat him down to drench him with compliments. Not often at all.

"This one says good fortune in your future."

He smiled, trying not to let himself appear sad. He could use a bit of fortune these days. With Alice gone, the days were long and empty during the week and he missed sharing a home with someone.

"It does? What does it say?"

She looked at him. She had such lovely eyes, that pale blue he loved to watch under different light to see the subtle change of hue. He was glad to have the occasion to look at them more these days.

"It says you're about to get lucky real soon, darling," she said and placed his hand flush at her breasts.

A few seconds passed in stunned awe and silence, and then the gates flooded open as the two of them crashed into each other at the same time. They made out like they hadn't been kissed in ages — Bill realized with nostalgia that this was the case. Her lips were soft under his, her perfume intoxicating. Her breasts were round and plump under his palm, and very soon she pushed open the buttons of her knitted cardigan to beg closer contact from him. He felt her hand riding up his lap, lingering at his crotch, and pulled briefly from the kiss to catch his breath. Sylvia was grinning victoriously.

"Now, are you gonna be sleeping in the guest room tonight, Mr Woodward," she teased, "Or are you getting lucky?"

"I'm lucky," he replied immediately. He kissed her — how eagerly she kissed him back, how close to him she pressed himself, craving to be snug and up close. "I'm so, so lucky..."

"Yeah?"

Her fingers toyed with the button of his jeans, asking a wordless question he answered without speaking up either. He fumbled with it a little, but when it was opened and her hand searched for him, she seemed just as nervous as he was, as clumsy with excitement. Her fingers wrapped around him and he held her close by the waist, closed his eyes to take in the moment.

"Sylvia, you're... a wonderful woman... fuck...."

Sylvia parted her legs suggestively and Bill loved to take the hint offered. He pulled up her skirts to touch her, first through the underwear then under the fabric he pushed aside, and though they had promised each other that there was nothing youthful about their encounter, that they were as committed as could be at their age, he did feel a bit like he had as a young man, love striking whenever and wherever. Still, as Sylvia moaned at his lips from the caress, so burning hot around him, as her fingers made him rock hard in her palm, he wouldn't have minded taking things to the bedroom. Perhaps he was too old for this after all, but he had a vision of a naked Sylvia whimpering underneath him under the covers and a horny clothed handjob on the couch just wasn't cutting it the same.

"Billy," she told him, her voice deep and soft, thickened by desire, "I have a good bed. I don't want just a rut anywhere. Not with you. You're a good man and a kind man and I mean it."

She could read his mind — perhaps she truly was clairvoyant, a touch of magic. Her hand on him was a terrible distraction from her words and he smiled and leaned to kiss her once more. He had missed this so terribly, the embrace of a lover, the trust he felt for her now. Yet at the same time, this was completely new and unseen, a brand new experience with a new partner. A new partner whose bedroom he dreadfully wanted to see.

Sylvia shooed away the cats who had taken up residence in her room to avoid the stranger in their midst and closed the door behind them for privacy. Turning back to Bill, she smiled all the naughtier without an audience, feline or not. Her fingers toyed with the collar of his sweater and he pulled it off for her, and the undershirt he was wearing underneath. He swore she all but purred at this, like she was half a kitty herself with a brand new toy.

"Come along, then, love."

It felt more special on the bed. Even horny out of their minds, there was a sense of solemnity to it and they plucked the clothes from each other with patience and care, cherishing every part uncovered. Sylvia's small hands lingered at his arms, Bill's lips were taken with her breasts all so much more wonderful when she bared them to his eyes. For many years as the passion had dulled from his marriage bit by bit, Bill had focused on his role of a father and it was all he had been for some time now, but tonight was different. Tonight, he felt like a man again. And he felt _good_.

"I wanna..."

His fingers pumped in and out of her — she was so hot, so tight. Her hair sprawled leisurely on the pillows like a beautiful poem and he wished he had the words to say it all, to let her know how much he trusted her, how he cared for her already. Sylvia touched his face gently and leaned on her elbows to kiss him, and her gaze told Bill that he was doing alright after all.

"I want it too, Billy," she whispered like a prayer. She parted her legs better to him and Bill scooted closer, kneeling in between. "Let me..."

From her nightstand, she pulled out a small tub of lube she applied on him abundantly and Bill looked down at it with some marvel, how rapidly her hands worked on him, the sight of it making him groan out. He was so hard he could barely believe it, but the dry spell had come to an end now and when Sylvia closed the drawer again, he felt like the luckiest man in all of Hatchetfield.

"Well now," she muttered and Bill was reminded of a séance again, a prayer, something spiritual and certainly holy. Surely a touch of heaven in her arms. "C'mere, then, sweetheart."

He pressed inside of her and felt so ridiculously proud of the content moan she gave him as soon as he was lodged deep in. Her arms wrapped around him and she kissed him long and well. Even as Bill started to thrust in her, she kissed him, smiled at him. He had forgotten exactly how much he had missed this intimacy, for it was a trust and comfort nothing else in the world could try to imitate. The soft words they exchanged in lovemaking might stay burned in his mind for good, each of them one upping the other as to how attractive they found the other, how well they liked each other and especially tonight, how happy they were to be here together. With Sylvia under him and in his arms, Bill felt like there was no part of him that wasn't devoted to her entirely, nor of her to him. They were truly attuned, craving the same things at the same pace right here in this bed under the covers, and he wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

This was all he had wanted after all. He had simple needs, never too demanding. He had thought it an easy bargain to have someone to care for, someone to share his days, on the same page as him. He had not thought it too much to hope for, but now that he might have found it again, it didn't feel like a small thing anymore. It felt broad and vast and plenty. He cared for Sylvia, he wanted her. He wanted her so much.

"You're so beautiful."

He breathed in deep. Her hair smelled of coconut oil for the bounce of her curls, her neck of the strong flowery scent she doused herself with several times a day. Sylvia wasn't a meek self erasing thing like he was. She did everything she stood for unashamed, strong. He wanted to bask in that strength, let himself be inspired by it. In a way, he already was.

"You're so nice, you're so good."

She whimpered and her hips rolled with his with all the more passion from his whispers of adoration at her ear. She smelled of passion and drenching affection and sweat and sex. He had missed sex so much. He wondered if Ted would be proud of him, though he would never have a reason to know of this. Bill never wanted to share Sylvia with anyone else at all and he was hers in return. Her hands were digging into his back, her legs snug around him, her hair tickled his skin softly. He kissed her neck, up to her shoulder and back to her lips which tasted like pure luck.

"Make me come, Billy," she told him in a low voice, a mystery. "I want you to."

"Yeah," he breathed out heavy against her skin, muffled in that mane of hers. He felt so hot. "Yeah, I'm gonna."

He pushed her legs more apart, leaned up to find a better angle that worked for her, applied himself. Sylvia laid there gazing up at him with the sweetest fond smile for him and her hands flattened on his torso as she took him so well and perfect. He realized how completely not anxious he was feeling — he had forgotten all about performance anxiety as the moments had carried him to the next and everything had been as smooth as could be. Even now focusing on it, the thought gave him nothing more than a small pinch of nerves and he pulled a leg to his chest to cover her calf with kisses. With every thrust, the bed shook a little, the covers rustled, and Sylvia moaned lovely for him. Just for him.

"Oh, Billy..."

She came first and he had never seen such a masterpiece before as Sylvia's pleasure born from his attentions, the way she bit her lips and bucked up into him to grab onto every last bit of the climax before it weakly ran its course and she flopped back onto the mattress with the softest smile. A kitten tired after play. Bill gave a few last pushes into her and, feeling he was too close, pulled out to spill on her stomach with a groan into her shoulder. He wondered if he was crushing her, but Sylvia only held him there, panting as hard as him, and played with his hair as they recovered.

"Oh, wasn't that nice and a half," she purred.

Bill nodded tiredly. He felt sticky and too hot and sweaty, perhaps even gross, but then he supposed Sylvia would be feeling just the same. Nothing was all that bothersome when you shared it with another person you cared about. Her long nails scratched softly against the nape of his neck and his face buried in her chest. It had been nice, alright. It had been incredible.

"Bath?" She offered and Bill rolled off of her to take her up on it.

He was being too sentimental, he reflected as the candles burned around them and his head was dizzy with a million scented oils and soaps Sylvia had poured into the hot water. He didn't know her too well yet, better than he had a couple of weeks ago and for sure more than to consider her a stranger, but the relationship was still so early it was impossible to know if the hopes in his heart would pay off in the end. Maybe there was no end in sight at all, only another date of being charmed by this fantastic lady, then another and another till, before he knew, he would spend the rest of his life taking too hot baths and holding her in his arms while she told him about the latest murder mystery novel she had read just the other day. He could stand the thought of that.

"Billy?"

He realized his thought had carried him far away from the conversation and sheepishly tried to pull himself back into it, but he must have said the wrong words because Sylvia pouted in the most adorable way and leaned back flush against his torso. Bill passed the loofah on her arms again, played with the thick foam.

"Sorry," he said and kissed her shoulder. "Sorry, I was just thinking... how lucky I am to be here with you. I got lost in my thoughts, what were you saying?"

Sylvia looked up at him. Her hand cupped his jaw and she pulled him to her for a kiss she lingered a little. Her hair was up in a bun and he wondered if she had become even prettier since he had walked past her threshold.

"Nothing that matters as much as that," she replied. "I like having you here. Don't you ever doubt that."

They settled into the same cuddle again and it was some time before either of them spoke, though they were both grinning just as broadly as the other. Bill held her waist closer, kissed the back of her neck. Every token of affection was so well received by her he wanted to give more and more from now until forever. Sylvia played with his hands, traced the creases of him palms.

After the divorce, Bill had thought he would never find love again, that it was too late for him. He had had his shot and missed it. A father of a teenager with all the emotional baggage to go with it, he had thought his life was over. Tonight, though, he felt like it had only just started.

**Author's Note:**

> IDK AREN'T THEY REALLY CUTE OR IS IT JUST ME


End file.
